Inevitable
by BigRed502
Summary: Tiva – Autopsy Scene Rewrite – Season 5:19 Spoilers


***All characters belong to CBS**

* * *

The doors slid closed behind her and she suddenly felt as if she was being watched. She had come down to autopsy to find her partner, and it seemed she had succeeded. The light behind her flickered on and his face came into view.

"Surprised it took you so long," he commented, an antique glass in his hand. He gave her a small smile, raising his glass towards her. "Thank god for Ducky."

She slowly made her way toward the dimly lit desk, stopping before she got too close. "You have not listened to anything I have said," she replied.

"Well," he explained, attempting to add a light tone to his voice. "It's only been three years, I'm a slow learner." Her mind briefly recalled the past three years, and she almost smiled at the memories. She was glad to have spent them with him, but couldn't find the will to be happy at that moment.

"And a slow healer," She sat on the desk, saying what came to mind without a second thought. Something about this experience made her not want to act like the tough warrior she always was; she just wanted to be herself. It was like the calm of the moment made all her walls crumble. She willed herself to look over at him in the dim light. He was absentmindedly playing with the glass, staring at the autopsy tables. "You're crying over spilt…" she started, feeling the need to get this saying right. She didn't want him to have to correct her like he always did. Those were the moments that made her smile, and she didn't want to be happy on such a tragic occasion. "Milk," she finished.

"It's not milk that I spilt," he returned, looking over at her. She had to look away to avoid being caught staring at him. He looked so depressed; she longed to take away his pain.

"Do not do this, Tony," she warned, battling her own demons while he fought his. One side of her wanted him to say it all, everything he was holding back, while the other side didn't know if she could handle it.

"Don't do what?" he scoffed, twisting the lid on the wine bottle in his fingers. "Blow my protection detail? Blow my undercover assignment?" He lifted the glass to his lips again.

"Those sound like apologies," she inserted. He gave her a rueful smirk in return, setting down his glass. The noise echoed hollowly in the metal room. The walls seemed to echo the emptiness they both felt as he grabbed another glass from the drawer, offering her the bottle. She took it easily and splashed some alcohol into the glass. She raised her glass towards him but the gesture was not returned.

"She died alone." He pointed to the doors on the opposing wall. It was a chilling thought that their boss lay silent inside one of those drawers.

"We are all alone," she replied, staring down at the liquor in her cup. She felt the familiar tug in her chest when she thought of how alone she truly was.

"Yeah, thanks for that," he muttered sarcastically, causing her to wonder who he was missing. Was it Jeanne? The faint notion that he was thinking about her flashed across her mind. She shrugged it off like she had so many times before. She swallowed some of the alcohol, feeling the burn as it went down her throat. It was somewhat soothing to have the pain somewhere else for a change. "I just mean that she never got married, never had any children… I never even heard her talk about it."

She sighed, forcing her gaze away from him. Hearing him talk about marriage and children brought up strange feelings that she didn't want to consider. She didn't want to know how far beyond being partners her feelings went. She wouldn't allow herself to feel that way. But she did.

"Paris," he said gently, looking up at her. She smiled in return, thinking about her former boss' previous life. It seemed like so long ago that she was smiling down on them in the bullpen. She looked back at him then, wishing they had a memory like Paris. "That's when it must've happened," he contemplated aloud.

"The two of them alone, in another world," she replied, thinking about how similar their situation was.

"Putting their lives in each other's hands everyday-"

"Not to mention the long nights," she added quietly.

"It was inevitable," he commented, looking at her with an intense stare she did not recognize.

"Nothing is inevitable," she returned, looking down into his eyes in the dark light. She knew they were both a little drunk and should probably go their separate ways, but she didn't want to leave. She didn't want to walk away from him. She couldn't.

"What about us?" he whispered, only audible because of the echo in the room.

She nodded, unable to tear her gaze from his.

"It was bound to happen," he said with such intensity she had to look away. She shouldn't have been there. She tried to come up with reasons to leave, but found she had none.

"Do not go there, Tony," she chastised.

"Isn't it obvious?" He set down his glass, standing from his chair. "You can't tell me you don't feel it."

"Tony," she whispered warningly as he reappeared in her vision. The soft glow from the desk lamp illuminated the burn in his eyes. She took a deep breath to steady her pounding heartbeat. The room felt as if it was suddenly devoid of oxygen. Their eyes locked for some time before she allowed herself to glance at his lips. It seemed that was all the hint he needed before he bent down to kiss her.

Their kiss was gentle but passionate. It was everything she remembered and so much more. Now they had love, and she only hoped it would help heal their wounds. Wishing for anything more would have been selfish.

{End}

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please review!


End file.
